100 Drabble Challenge
by Overlord Rousdower
Summary: I have joined in the fun! In true Rousdower style, this will feature elves galore, hilarity, no-so-funny angst, and general weirdness! This will probably be good to read if you're really bored LOL (or if you like my writing... *hint hint*) There may be random non-LotR stuff, that is yet to be determined. This description and title is subject to change. K plus to be safe.
1. Fire

Thranduil stared at his reflection; his face blank, his mind spinning. The sight of the scars that stretched across his visage, black and twisted, like a web of rotten shadows, and the eye whose vision, never to be regained, caused the bile to rise up his throat and the wretched memory of the day his life grew just a shade darker, spread to a magnitude so great, that all else was blotted from his mind. To think, such a great warrior, reduced to _this,_ because of one misstep. One miscalculation. One _insignificant_ distraction. He could still feel the heat, so strong that it felt as if he was freezing… The brightness that engulfed him, and tore at his body...

A hundred years ago, he would have laughed in the face of whoever were to tell him that the thing he would come to resent most...

...would be fire.

 **A/N: So. Yes. I have joined this 100 drabble challenge thingy. I'm going to be boring and do the prompts straight down, starting from one LOL. I don't know if anyone will actually read this. You need not be obligated to review LOL. This particular one was going to be _humor._ But somehow turned into this? I don't know. I feel as this may be kinda dumb since I'm not used to writing angsty stuff. But it seemed fitting at the time *facepalm* Anywho. Yeah. Review if you feel like it, and criticize all you want. I could use some XD**

Roudower out_


	2. Pet

**a/n: Heyo! O_O wow, I wasn't expecting seven reviews XD Thank you all so much for the support!**

 **Oh! I keep forgetting to say this XD For anyone who reads more than one of my stories, or just reads my stories and well.. yeah whatever. There's a poll on my profile, please give me your opinion! I've noticed other authors doing it and so I thought to myself 'that might be a good idea?'**

 **That last drabble was for the prompt 'Fire' it should show up as the chapter title now though XD Hopefully you guys enjoy this next one! I couldn't resist...**

 **Pet**

"Masssster…?"

The Dark Lord resisted the urge to slam his head down onto his desk.

"What is it now," he grumbled.

"We have a requesssssst?" the Nazgul said tentatively.

"Well? Get on with it!" Sauron snapped, sending a fiery glare to the hooded figure in front of him.

"Ahem… well.. Howard found sssssomething the other day… and we were wondering…" the fallen king twisted his hands together.

" _Wondering…?_ " the fallen Maiar's voice promised much pain unless the Nazgul got on with it.

"Well… He found a nest of creaturessss… great winged beastsss. Fell creaturessss they are. And the otherssss and I were wondering… well.. the Witch King has taken an essssspecial liking to them… Ssssso we were wondering if perhaps we could keep them? As our mountsss? Assss petsssss?" the Nazgul immediately shied away, as if the Great Eye would send a jet of flames at him right in that moment.

Sauron merely stared at his henchman in disbelief.

" _Pets?_ "


	3. Transportation

**Transportation**

"You were such a good friend… We went everywhere together, remember?" Glorfindel smiled sadly, laying his hand on the stone carving in front of him. "You were so wonderful even Lady Arwen would try and sneak off with you sometimes."

"You would always pester me for food… and I always gave in." The golden-haired elf shook his head lightly.

"You were a hero too… I guess one could say you saved Middle Earth in a way!" He laughed. "Remember when we first met? You had only been just born, I happened to walk into the stables at _just_ the right time and there you were… all cute and wobbly and I just _knew_ that we would be the best of friends…" Glorfindel wiped at his eyes.

"I miss you very much, mellon nin, but I know you are in a better place now, running through the fields of Valinor probably," Glorfindel grinned.

"Well… I had better return. Lord Elrond will have my head if I show up late." Glorfindel pulled himself to his feet and began his trek back to Imladris. He glanced over his shoulder briefly;

"Márienna, Asfaloth…"

 **A/N: Thank you for all those reviews guys! Holy cow, almost twenty?! So yeah, this was rather angsty *peeks out* *I've been feeling really angsty lately...* But yeah, so Asfaloth is a horse and I figured though he was an elvish breed he probably wasn't immortal.. Ohh and Marienna means farewell (towards happiness) in Quenyan. Hope you guys liked this O_O**

 **Rousdower out_**


	4. Plants

**Plants: Humor Version**

"Plants iz stupid."

Sam frowned. "And what's brought this on?"

"There is too many plants here, _gollum gollum,"_ Gollum grumbled.

"I think it's beautiful," Sam said proudly.

Gollum looked pointedly over at the headless statue nearby. "No it's not, precious. Rocks and bones is beautiful. Plants are green and noisy… they makes us trip, _gollum_."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Mr. Frodo, what do _you_ think about plants?"

"Hmm?" Frodo looked up from the ring with glazed eyes. "Oh, they're… green. And very nice, I suppose. Though, nothing quite matches the green of the Shire…" Frodo regressed into angsty reminiscing.

Gollum giggled to himself. "We bets the Precious doesn't like plantses."

"Oh shut it, you sneak…"

"Oh, stupid fat hobbtses thinks I _sneak_ does it?" Gollum taunted.

"Oh there's no doubt about it," Sam muttered.

" _Gollum, gollum._ How did the stupid fat hobbitses put it? Oh yes, we remembers… _Whatever_." Gollum crept away through the undergrowth he so protested.

"You should be nicer to him, Sam," Frodo said half-heartedly.

" _Nicer?_ To someone who doesn't like _plants?_ "

 **oOoOoOoOoOo**

 **Plants: Angst Version**

Sauron stared out the window, gaze sweeping over the barren wasteland that he now referred to as 'home'. Mordor was anything but a home. It was a charred wasteland, sometimes freezing, sometimes sweltering; unsuitable for anything but the foul creatures who served him. And even then, barely so.

He hadn't wanted this. He had wanted a living kingdom, green and growing. Melkor wanted something completely different: life blotted from the world. So, he had forced Sauron to destroy the land, burning and killing any potential. A distant memory crawled it's way back through the Dark Lord's mind.

" _Sauron, you mustn't let them grow. It speaks of weakness and we are_ not _weak. Growth of life is detrimental to the goal, any growth but that of our power is inexcusable." Melkor turned to glare down at him. "Do you understand?"_

And now he could barely remember the last time he had even seen grass.

Sauron winced at the memory. The time with his Master had not been in any way a happy time… But it had gotten him at least part of what he wanted, and for that, he supposed, he should be thankful.

 **A/N: Ssssooooo… I wrote two for this one, because ten words into the first one I had the idea for the second and couldn't just throw it away. I find Sauron a very interesting character, and I think sometimes people forget that Mordor was not really how he wanted it to be, which I find fascinating *looks shmart* really the whole 'ruined' was Melkor's thing. I also seem to remember Mordor being referred to as cold in the book, but I couldn't remember so I put in both… AND WOW GUYS! SO MANY REVIEWS! THANK YOU! I mean these are just drabbles, but it's getting such great feedback \\(*o*)/ NOW VOTE PEOPLE. WHICH DID YOU PREFER?**

 **Overlord Rousdower out_**


	5. Threats

"You puny children! I shall crush you all, and the world will be mine! Darkness shall consume the land and death shall prevail! With my hammer, mountains shall fall! Leaders shall be smashed into bloody pulp and their followers shall… Um… follow them! My legions shall flood over your lands and fields and burn them to the ground! My dragons shall devour you and yours! My Balrogs shall-"

Sauron rolled his eyes. "Master, that's quite enough. You sound magnificent."

"- and I shall devour the hearts of-"

Sauron felt flames begin to seep out of him. "Master…"

"-and I shall possess the souls of the goats and they shall be fea-"

"MASTER!"

Melkor paused in his monologue. "Yes, Sauron?"

"I think you've practiced enough. You sound positively malicious. Now, if you don't mind, I need to rest my ears," Sauron seethed, storming haughtily away.

"Hmph." Melkor narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with him.." he muttered.

Shrugging to himself, he lounged back on his throne and plotted the death of Middle Earth, fabulously monologuing (to the chagrin of his Lieutenant) the entire way.

 **MUAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHHA THANKS FOR REVIEWING GUYYYYZZZZ**

 **OVERLORD ROUSDOWER OUT_ *DISAPPEARS IN FLASH OF STROBE LIGHTS***


	6. Water

"Gimli, I'm really sure it's not that bad, you've been in boats before…"

"Last time I was in a boat, we were on a river, not an ocean! Rivers you can survive, but _are we even sure oceans have a bottom?_ " Gimli looked as if a horrible epiphany had stricken him, and he stared with renewed horror at the beautifully crafted boat and the vast ocean upon which it sat.

Legolas sighed. "Really now. We discussed this all the way here, I thought you had come to your senses! Apparently I was wrong."

"Well then, let's just leave him here!" Thranduil called over his shoulder as he flounced past his son and the dwarf beside him.

Gimli glared resentfully at the Elvenking. "Dwarves are made for land, not water, laddie," he grumbled.

"Quite right!" Thranduil called from the dock.

"You've said that a thousand times, Gimli," Legolas muttered, also glaring at his father, who was now haughtily observing the ship.

"Hmmph."

"LET'S THINK OF ME TOO!" The two friends shared exasperated glances as Thranduil shouted to them. "YOU'RE ASKING ME TO SPEND SEVERAL WEEKS IN THE PRESENCE OF THAT… THING! I'D ALMOST RATHER STAY HERE! BUT IF HE STAYS, IT WILL SAVE ME THE TROUBLE OF GOING ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE GREENWOOD!" Thranduil finished with a flip of his hair and a swish of his robes as he resumed his observation of the ship.

"That's it."

"Gimli, really-"

"I'm goin' just to spite 'im!" Gimli picked up his sack and his ax and stomped up to the ship.

Legolas grinned, before realizing what hell would be awaiting him.

He looked over his shoulder. Maybe he should escape while nobody was looking…

 **A/N: Warning: Due to long weekend of horse shows while sick, Rousdower has developed the 'Strange Absence Plus Everything She Posts May Be Sub-Par and Strange' syndrome, please forgive her. She also is sorry for not replying to the reviews. Let its be known that they were appreciated. For those who read her other stories, she has a poll up if you wish to check it out.**

 **Credit for this mostly goes to the Esteemed Wunderkind4006. Many thanks for the idea.**


	7. Wind

Wind.

Wind is the most feared enemy of the Elven race, for one reason, and one reason only.

Hair. If you have hair any longer than your shoulders, you are sure to understand… It get's tangled, and knotted, and impossible to handle.

Now, out of all the elves, Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood, feared and disliked wind the very most. He was very proud of his silvery, flowing locks, that if even a gust were to vaguely present itself, he would immediately scramble to put his hair up, whether he tie it back, or tie it up, or even if he were to merely lift his hood, it did not matter. He would fiercely defend his beautiful hair, if his life depended on it.

Now, his son Legolas was only slightly less paranoid. He, on the other hand, had taken to carrying a hairbrush with him, which Thranduil had refused to do (due to claims of it being 'unkingly' and things of that sort). Whenever his companions or company would turn their backs, he would vigorously comb out his luscious locks and re-braid it with the speed of light. Due to his extreme stealth, whomever he were to be traveling with, usually remained totally oblivious to the frequent hair care.

Perhaps the only elf on Arda who didn't much care for the state of his hair, was Glorfindel….But that was only because he would rather pretend his hair was nonexistent… you know… with the Balrog and all… I'm sure you understand.

 **A/N: *sings Christmas music to self, as lounges on couch and binges on Supernatural whilst trying not to fall asleep from copious amounts of horse riding and stuff***

 **And that's what I've been up to... Thanks for the reviews guys ^_^**

 **Rousdower out_**


	8. Hobby

Legolas Greenleaf was an elf of many talents… And many secrets. One of these secrets being his… hobby.

Some may question this, stating that, "Archery is the hobby of the great Legolas!" But they would be incorrect. Legolas viewed archery to be his job- albeit one he enjoyed immensely- not a hobby.

His hobby was, in fact, none other than flower arranging.

And as mortifying as it was, it was something Legolas enjoyed immensely. Every Manweday morning, he would rise early, sneak into the gardens, gather a few choice flowers, and return to the palace. He would seek out every vase containing a dead bouquet, and carefully replace them with his newest arrangement. He would then step back, look over his beautiful work, nod to himself, and go about his day, carefully maintaining the facade.

Nobody had the slightest inkling, not a soul… except perhaps Galion, but what does Galion know? He's only a butler? Right?… Right?

Legolas furrowed his brow and peered over his shoulder to see Galion smirking evilly at him, twirling a flower in his hand.

…

Alright then. The butler definitely knows, and the butler definitely seems to be plotting something malicious.

Legolas prayed that Galion's mouth remain mercifully shut.

Somehow he doubted that it would.

 **A/N: Merry belated Christmas and Happy belated New Years guys! Thank for all the lovely reviews \\(*O*)/**

 **Overlord Rousdower out_**


	9. Tradition

"LEGOLAS GET BACK HERE. I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO, YOU'RE WEARING IT!" Thranduil hollered, striding after his fleeing son.

"But Adar! It's embarrassing!"

Thranduil rolled his eyes. "I'm wearing one too," he reprimanded, dangling the object in question between his son's eyes.

"But Adaaaaaaa," Legolas whined, eyes darting around, trying to find an escape route.

"Legolas, for Eru's sake, it's only for a night. It's a tradition that we must both live with," Thranduil huffed, slamming the circlet of roses onto his son's head. "And in all honesty, yours doesn't look nearly as horrid as mine." Thranduil gestured irritably to his own crown.

Legolas couldn't deny that. So, with a long-suffering sigh, the poor prince of Mirkwood adjusted the crown of roses upon his head, and followed his father up to the Feast of First Bloom, mentally preparing himself for yet another harrowing celebration.


End file.
